Sideways
by Maybe Now
Summary: He was pathetic, he thought. He was a pathetic excuse of a wizard, he had pathetic hopes and dreams, and it was pathetic the way Victoire could affect his mood. [all t/v, three-shot]
1. Chapter 1

(AN: just something I'd had sitting around on my computer for a bit. Started when I began Seperate, Apart, Alone, Together, actually, just to pump something out. This'll probably be a three shot, there's a vague plan in my head already. Please enjoy. And please, **review**, if you can, please.)

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**Chapter One**

The sound of his keys falling onto the rickety table was dulled by the constant thudding of the rain outside. His bag of groceries was soaked, the bread most likely ruined. Brown hair was plastered to his forehead, blocking most of his vision, and his clothes stuck and hung from him; he tripped over the pile of old textbooks supporting the short leg of the table as he took a step forward. He let out a strained laugh when he noticed his black umbrella leaning innocently against the table.

He hit himself in the forehead when he realized that he could have just Apparated from the store instead of walking.

Teddy shuffled, shoes squeaking, through his small flat wondering how he never had found it claustrophobic before. The living area was cramped with those two old sofas and coffee table, and he could cross the width of his kitchen with one long step.

And, he noted dully, putting the soggy brown bag down, there just wasn't enough counter space.

With a sigh, Teddy leaned over and rested his head in his hands, elbows on the edge of the sink. Water dripped from his hair, down his arms, and into the dirty dishes.

He was pathetic, he thought. He was a pathetic excuse of a wizard, he had pathetic hopes and dreams, and it was pathetic the way Victoire could affect his mood.

And today was Victoire's 17th birthday. And they had no plans together whatsoever.

Teddy's attendance at every single one of Victoire's birthdays was spotless. He'd even been in the waiting room when she was born, albeit he was two and couldn't remember a single second of it. He'd been her friend for her whole life, known her since forever. He was nearly family.

The fact was that today Victoire turned seventeen, and she'd written that she was too busy to spend even part of the day with him. Even after seventeen years of friendship.

Oh- with a "Sorry! Love, Victoire" tagged at the end of the two sentenced reply written in her curvy script.

He shook his head.

Pathetic, he repeated.

He opened his eyes, staring through splayed fingers at the accumulating puddle of water on the linoleum tile at his feet.

Teddy straightened and slumped to his bedroom. His bed swallowed it, and there was only a little space on the side by the closet to change.

Zippering up his dry jeans, Teddy pulled his wet t-shirt over his head and threw it at the laundry bin stuffed in the corner of his room. He missed. He bent over and placed it on top of the other clothing, tossing the plain grey shirt he'd dragged out of the closet onto the bed.

Teddy jumped a mile when a pop and a bang sounded from the kitchen; he flew out the door, grabbing his shirt as he passed.

He skidded to a stop as soon as he exited. There, amidst a backdrop of dull yellow paint, stood Victoire, flowing blonde hair and all, in the middle of his kitchen, looking extremely pleased.

"Teddy!" she cried, eyes shut, throwing both her arms up in the air, "I'm seventeen!"

It was hard to find words at that moment, to make some sort of witty comment, with Victoire grinning in her glory across the kitchen, arms invitingly outstretched.

It was then that he noticed the toppled breakfast table and chairs in the corner behind her.

"Did you do that?" he deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow.

She pouted, crossing her arms across her chest. "Teddy," she whined, and he realized that all she needed to do was stomp her foot to remind him of her five year old self, "I just passed my Apparation test! And it's my birthday! Be nice!"

"I am nice," he mumbled, earning a small smile.

"So, what is this? Am I going to get a hug or what?"

He quickly grinned back. "Of course you are. I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," he responded truthfully.

Victoire rolled her blue eyes. "You saw me just last week, when I got picked up from the train, remember?" she reminded, but her eyes were bright when she crossed the kitchen and put her arms around his neck.

He'd just wrapped his arms around her when she drew slightly back with her hands on his shoulders.

"What?" he asked at the puzzled look on her face.

"Why isn't your hair blue? And," her cheeks tinged slightly pink, "why don't you have a shirt on?"

* * *

"I still don't know why you told me that you were too busy to see me today," Teddy complained, set with the grey shirt on and his normal electric blue hair.

"And I still don't know why you didn't have a shirt on," she responded teasingly, looking up at him from her sprawled position on the couch.

He knew it was familiar, that it was completely normal for her to be laying there like that next to him; when he bought his flat last summer, they'd spent as much time together as they could in order to, in some way, make up for the time they'd lose before she went off to school and he to work. It was ordinary. It was Victoire.

"I told you!" he groaned, feeling his face heat up, "My clothes got all wet, I was just changing! And answer my question!"

"Mmm," she hummed, feigning thought, "well I wanted it to be a surprise. Me passing my Apparation test, that is. And speaking of surprises… why did you say you didn't have a shirt on again?"

"I seriously just told you this. I forgot the spell to dry myself off after I got soaked. I was in the middle of changing when you destroyed my kitchen. And besides, didn't they tell you that it was rude to Apparate in the middle of someone's house?"

Victoire slightly smile, and rolled her eyes. "No, I mean, really, Ted."

"I'm being serious!" he exclaimed. "I was wet from walking home from the store."

He watched the way she lowered her eyes as she shifted to sit up next to him. Her mussed blonde hair fell messily down her back, waves framing her face. "I mean," she started, hesitating, and the humor slid off the planes of her face, "you would, you know…" she struggled, eyes searching as if looking for the words on the floor, "I mean, if there was ano- a girl," she rushed with rapid hand gestures, meeting his curious gaze now, "you would tell me, right?"

This question almost jolted him as he saw the honesty in her blue eyes. They'd both been in relationships before, and though he'd never really liked any of Victoire's boyfriends and he had liked all the girls he'd been with, it had never before felt so wrong to imagine anyone but Victoire sitting beside him at that moment.

He blinked and forbade that thought. He looked away, disconnecting their gaze; it was easier to think rationally without drowning in the sea.

"Teddy?" she whispered.

Her expression was guarded and serious when he looked back.

"You would know," he reassured.

"Good," she sighed, resting her feet on the table as she sidled down to rest her head on his shoulder. Unconsciously, he placed his chin on top her blonde hair and shifted to make her more comfortable. She took his hand, slightly hugging his arm, giving another contented sigh.

It would be easy for him to pretend that they both were feeling the way he did as he marveled at how she seemed made to nestle in his side. Times like these, especially recently, made it so difficult for Teddy to remember that he was like an older brother to her, maybe, he couldn't decide whether this'd be better or not, a cousin. He had been practically raised by the Potters. She would never think of him that way. His stomach dropped with his spirits.

Pathetic, he reminded feebly, wincing, but he ignored himself, closing his eyes, and resigned himself to enjoying the feel of Victoire's soft form mold to the shape of his.

They entered into a long, sleepy silence, and the air was as if time had simply been suspended.

Victoire seemed different today. Different than what he was used to, although the last time he'd really spent time with her was during the Christmas holidays. She was still breathtaking, but such quiet, serious, sensitive moments were far and few in between with them. He was more accustomed to the bubbly, positive, energetic Victoire that teased him like they were still eight and ten.

"Victoire?" he finally murmured.

"Hm?" she breathed, shifting slightly, nuzzling his arm.

"Victoire," Teddy repeated.

"Yeah, what is it, Ted?" she mumbled drowsily against his bicep. He repressed a shiver at the feel of her lips moving on his skin.

He sighed. As much as he regretted it, it was Victoire's birthday, and it wasn't to be spent lounging on his old sofa half asleep. Her birthdays usually required elaborate scheming, a day spent running around doing whatever she wanted. He supposed he couldn't continue taking advantage of this. No matter how much peace or happiness it brought him.

"What are we doing?" he tiredly asked.

Teddy became confused when he felt her formerly relaxed body tense where it touched his.

"…What do you mean?" she said shortly, remaining fixed in her position, head still leaning against his arm.

"It's your birthday, Vic, and it's getting late. We should get going, do something, or something," he reasoned resignedly to the top of her head, slowly removing his arm from her grasp.

"Oh," she said, but sounded relieved, a little disappointed, and her shoulders no longer looked so tight.

She sat straight and took her hands in her lap.

"Yeah," she said softly, biting her lip while looking up at him, "it is. And we should…" she looked down at her hands again, "But I'm kind of worn out. Tired, you know," she finished, and she looked up and met his eyes, shy, and he wondered where her ever-present boldness went.

His stomach fluttered. His hopes were ripping down his half-hearted restraints.

"We can stay here," he replied searchingly, hoping this is what she wanted, "if you want to."

"Yeah," she sighed, looking up at him from under her lashes and smiling, "That would be nice."

"Okay," he said, to fill the silence, to muffle the loud beats of his heart.

He willed himself to relax as she stretched over to lay her head on his shoulder. She'd already closed her eyes, but he could tell she was uncomfortable.

He didn't want to overstep any boundaries… and their boundaries were so blurred. He felt like they jumped backwards and forwards and he could never tell what she felt. Every time he thought he was close to an answer, she would start chatting about some boy in her year, or then give him a look that sent waves down his spine.

Teddy decided that as of right now, she teetered more towards his side of the spectrum. Teddy decided that maybe a small step would be the right one.

With some apprehension that glazed his just recently resolved mind, he smoothly swung his feet from off the floor and stretched his legs down the length of the sofa. He reclined his head back onto the pillow leaning against the sofa's arm, and he moved slightly to face Victoire a little more.

She, obviously aware of his change in position, began shifting with him, and he relaxed as she moved to stay with him. She nestled her head in the crook between his neck and shoulder, and when she sighed into his neck, so close to his neck he could almost feel her lips, his arm acted and draped itself over her back, bringing her more securely to his chest.

He closed his eyes as she sighed again, breath skating across his neck and collarbone. He breathed through his nose, more or less snuggling closer to her.

A lazy smile flitted across his face as her fingers softly curled into his soft grey shirt.

"Teddy?" she murmured, as drowsily as he suddenly felt, the world moving slower with his contentment.

"Hm?" he hummed eyes still shut, taking in the way her hand felt on his steadily rising and falling chest.

It was quiet for awhile, it could've been seconds or a few minutes, he was just wrapped up in the way they were wrapped up, and he started to think he'd imagine her saying anything at all.

The moment prolonged, stretching, and he felt so cozy and warm, the pattering of the rain resounding around the house lulled him near to sleep accompanied by Victoire's breathing. In those moments before he dropped off to sleep, he would've sworn that he'd felt soft lips at his collarbone, but in those moments it is so hard to discern from dream and reality.

* * *

The two figures, shifting and holding each other in sleep, lay on that sofa, squeezed into that small living area, conjoined with the kitchen with not enough counter space where the table and chairs still lay haphazardly strewn on the tile floor. The brown bag sat on the counter, forgotten, and puddles were starting to evaporate on the floor. Her light jacket, light also in color, was draped across the coffee table, and a ring of keys rested on top of that. His hair changed color slowly in his sleep to dreams he may or may not remember, and she wore a tranquil expression that complimented her beauty.

* * *

His mind was in a daze when the peaceful slumber he'd fallen into was broken by a door slamming shut. He tightened his eyes shut, groaning, nuzzling closer to his comfort. Said comfort mumbled something unintelligible, and his mind went blank when he remembered that he'd fallen asleep with Victoire practically laying completely on him. She buried her head in his neck, clutching his shirt in a fist, and he wondered if she realized it was him yet.

He was preoccupied with Victoire, naturally, and so when a voice sounded from the doorway it threw him again.

"Oh hey guys," came a flat tone. Squinting his eyes open, he was shocked by two things; one, it was dark outside, and two, Dominique was standing, arms crossed, next to his umbrella.

Her brow was raised. "Victoire. Get up."

Teddy stiffened, slowly sitting up. Victoire was still barely coherent, groaning as he got up, drowsily trying to push him back down. "No… tired… go away."

He gingerly eased himself up, Victoire coming about.

Dominique, looking so much like her sister, though with sharper edges, tapped her foot on the hard floor.

Victoire suddenly let go of him, covering her hand over her eyes.

"Oh god…" she moaned.

"Yeah, that's right you should be saying 'Oh god.' Do you realize what time it is?" her younger sister demanded impatiently.

"Oh shite…"

Teddy felt a little uncomfortable; he'd been caught dozing with Victoire on the sofa (though you could hardly call it dozing, they had slept for at least three hours) by her sister, practically his little cousin, and he had no idea what was going on.

Dominique had started ranting. "… and Mum is yelling in French asking where the hell you are, and you know, that's the damn thing about you being allowed to Apparate, you just get up and leave when you want, yeah, and I have to deal with the consequences."

Victoire put her head in her hands.

"..and it's your own bloody birthday dinner. It's not even that you were late to mine! Your own birthday! And while Mum and Dad are trying to think about where you went, since the possibilities are just endless now," she spat, "I figured I'd check here. And what do I find?" she said, raising her voice, gesturing towards the sofa, "You _on top of_ Ted. Teddy Lupin, remember?"

He flushed, scratching the back of his neck. He chanced a glance over at Victoire where she was gathering her keys and jacket, and her cheeks were full of color.

"Jesus, Dominique, I'm coming. I fell asleep for Christ's sake."

Dominique's eyebrows softened, but she still looked stressed. "You really worried Mum and Dad though. First day of age and you already had them out of their minds. I told them they should have just checked here, but they thought you'd be out gallivanting already," she muttered.

Victoire was hurrying around, waving her wand to restore the fallen table and chairs from earlier back to their proper position. She hadn't looked at him since they woke up, and it had him feeling edgy and nervous.

"Let's go, let's go," rushed Victoire, long legs pacing to reach Dominique.

Teddy awkwardly stood, not quite sure what to do.

"Well, bye then?" he said, and he rubbed behind his neck.

She finally looked at him for a moment, and her eyes were clouded and uncertain. She looked away quickly, and her cheeks were flushed again.

"Yeah, I'll… I'll stop by again sometime soon, okay?" she said. She gave him a fleeting smile before she turned to Dominique, who was observing the entire scene interestedly, and muttered, "Okay let's go," grabbing her hand and, with a pop, disappeared from his flat.

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babylon by david grey

all i want from you is love by let's go sailing

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(AN: hope it provided some interest. **PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. **I'm curious how this one'll be received, since I hadn't been really planning on making this one to put up here. So please, help a girl out, review. It doesn't take long. pretty please?)


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** hello, hello again.

So... here is the second piece of Sideways, long overdue, and probably not what you'll expect. There will be one more part. Please review!

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**CHAPTER TWO**

Teddy, resignedly, was putting away his groceries from the store. Gingerly peeling away the wet brown paper, he realized he'd guessed right; the bread was soggy, and he was just trying to think of how to salvage it when a tapping sounded from the window.

It was a familiar brown owl, Morris, and with a bit of anticipation and throat closing, he clenched a fist and strode to let it in.

Rain continued to pour down; this was obvious when he opened the window and felt the slick feathers of the owl. Shaking itself in an attempt to rid the water, Morris stuck out his leg, and Teddy tentatively took the parchment.

It had been about two hours since she had left.

The note was still dry as he thumbed the sheet; she must have used her new abilities as a witch of age to legally cast a water repelling charm on it. Not opening it yet, Teddy took long, slow, strides to the sofa, and flopped down on it.

Foolishly, he was thinking of all the possibilities this letter could hold. He felt even more a fool for realizing it was foolish, but Teddy couldn't help himself. Teddy was never quite sure of anything, and though he was sure of the fact he wanted Victoire in his life, he wasn't quite sure how. He knew for certain that he held interest that was a bit more than platonic for her now, but what if it went away?

Right now, he didn't think so. She made him feel like a million cliché's all at once.

He sighed as he noted that he wasn't accounting for the possible negative responses he could get. But really, what was a negative response? He hadn't proposed anything. They'd been a little more intimate than usual, but that wasn't on par with receiving a rejection.

Teddy hoped that this letter would somehow tell him to keep progressing forward. Or maybe just give him a hint.

Scrunching his eyes closed for a brief moment, he quickly unfolded the parchment as his eyes opened.

His focus danced rapidly as his fast-moving imagination scattered his concentration, until he locked in on the first words:

_Hey Teddy._

_Sorry to run out on you like that. Dominique kind of had a point… My Mum and Dad were not pleased with me when I got home. They lectured me on responsibility and arriving to places on time and letting people know where I am and how I should have invited you back for dinner and how I'm seventeen and that I should've worn a different jacket for this type of weather (this was more my Mum,) and maybe something about how my hair should be better combed…? _

_Anyways, we didn't get to go through with my birthday plan! But no worries, I, of course, am hosting a party and you, of course, are invited. Though it'll mostly be people from my year… I don't know if that's not exciting enough for you, hanging out with kids two years younger than you. Tomorrow at seven though. I hope you come, anyways. A birthday party without my best friend? Bah!_

_Love, Victoire_

Typical Victoire. Instead of giving him anything to go off of, she completely ignored it all together. Avoiding the issue.

Sighing, he lightly tossed the letter onto the table, running a hand through his hair.

With chagrin he realized that his attendance to the party had been decided the moment she penned the invitation on the paper. It didn't matter that he came from a different world than the rest of the kids there, that he had graduated and now worked a job while these kids were still holding onto their last Charms exam- and then he remembered.

Christ. Victoire was one of those kids too.

HIs mind raced to come up with an explanation of why this was true and how could he still be impossibly attracted to her? but smiled again with chagrin when he realized.

Victoire had always been some sort of an enigma in his life. When he was younger, it was that she was younger than him, that she was a _girl, _and those always confusing conversations about how she was family, but they weren't related, but she should be treated as a cousin yet she actually wasn't, and her special smile.

Now, it was the way her hair fell over her shoulder, the tan of her skin, those blue eyes that didn't let you swim away, her laugh, her sometimes childish ways, the way she always got what she wanted, the smile he pretended was only for him…

Morris hooted in the kitchen.

His head hit the sofa again, hard.

He still had to write back.

Possible replies flew through his head.

_Of course, I wouldn't miss it for anything…_

No. Too desperate sounding.

_Yeah, sure. I have work the next day though..._

Not right. Sounding like an arse wouldn't help things.

_I'm coming..._

…

He sighed. If only his mates could hear his thoughts now… He'd be called a bird for the rest of his existence.

This didn't have to be difficult. The thought of seeing her again didn't, shouldn't, have to make his heart race. He could go, and see how she reacted to his presence, see if her feelings were really as blasé as she made them appear in the letter.

The scratching of talons interrupted his musings.

Standing up, he walked over to a cabinet in the kitchen. Morris hooted impatiently, standing on the sill of a nearby window, his brown wings furling and unfurling as it watched him.

With a sigh, Teddy shuffled through the miscellaneous items thrown in the back corner until his hands hit a small tin box. Pulling it out, the owl chirped as he revealed a treat.

Shoving it into its mouth, Teddy opened the window and ushered Morris out. The rain was still coming down, but resting his arms out the windowsill, Teddy watched until the brown bird, with no letter attached to its leg, was lost amongst the slanted patterns of the rain.

* * *

It was hard to watch other boys touch her, he concluded. Broodingly, he watched as one after another tall, muscular, Quidditch-player looking boys greeted her, handing her a gift and in return receiving a hug. He took another swig of Firewhiskey.

He wished every time a new arrival came that her grin would be fake, her greeting less enthusiastic, that her arms wouldn't be so quick to wind around their shoulders.

He at least wished that he could be close enough to where he could see if her eyes brightened when she looked at any of them.

Victoire and her parents had truly outdone themselves decorating for this party. Closer to the house, many of Victoire's friends were congregating around tables laden with food; he could hear their shrieks and laughter as they swapped stories about the start of their summers. Lanterns, suspended in the air by magic, were dotted amongst the trees all the way until the cliff, emitting a soft, warm glow in small radiuses around them.

The beauty of Shell Cottage, situated on the cliff with the small path down to the beach, had been enhanced by the Weasley's, and in the soft night, it further dramatized Teddy's emotions.

He'd been ready to go an hour before the party started, but had arrived at the cottage a half hour late. He didn't want to be early, he didn't want to intrude, he didn't want to get sucked into conversations he didn't want to be a part of.

When he'd finally Apparated, he Apparated a good ten minutes walk from the house. His thoughts had been scattered as he walked on his way- what was she going to say, would she look at him differently, would she look him in the eye, take his hand, and say, "Teddy, I have something I need to tell you", was he just getting his hopes up- and ended up walking upon the outskirts of the party an inch shorter with black hair and a stronger nose.

He stood in shadows, leaning against a forgotten tree, sipping his drink, watching Victoire smile at boys that were not him.

She did not know he was here, that he knew, and as she mingled with seemingly the entire seventh year, he wondered if she was thinking about him.

The warm air was humming with the excited, yet contented energy that he often associated with Victoire, and the break of the waves on the cliff along with the distinct smell of the ocean suddenly made him feel like he wasn't even there at all, merely observing the party in a safe haven far away.

Victoire was beautiful, and he felt that he was more comfortable standing here, torturing himself, looking at something that could not want him, than trying to stake a claim.

He sighed dejectedly, resignedly. She did consider him her 'best friend,' did she not? That was something, wasn't it?

Teddy was aware of how stupid and melodramatic he must be as he watched Victoire flit in between groups, grinning and talking to names and faces he didn't care to remember. He would always be her best friend. If that's all he was entitled, he would cling to it like a drowning man. He stood up straight.

Some hollow in his chest ached. He couldn't move his feet towards the warm light, and was conscious of his weak his attempts at restoring his normal image was.

Victoire could have anyone, and it would not be him. He reminded himself to not get his hopes up. Be the best best friend.

But Teddy leaned back against the tree once more, watching his foot as it nudged at a rock lodged in the dirt.

_Pathetic._

He sighed.

"Why hello there," came a smooth, feminine voice. He started as a hand moved up his arm to rest on his shoulder.

His eyes quickly located the disturbance- had he really been so preoccupied as to not notice her approach?- to his right; a brown haired girl was standing uncomfortably close, large brown eyes staring up at him.

"Uh.." was his eloquent response.

She gave a crooked smile. "I'm Evaline," she said, and something reminded him that he'd often seen Victoire spending time with this girl. "I don't think we've met before, I would have remembered you."

She came closer yet, and he thought he could smell Firewhiskey on her too.

"Er… Yeah I don't think we have," Teddy said awkwardly, thanking his luck that he hadn't changed back to his usual appearance.

She sighed, leaning against the tree next to him, her shoulder touching his, before she took another draught from her bottle. Teddy could tell she was pretty, the lamp-light flickering onto her face sporadically.

She met his eyes before he looked away quickly.

"You want some?" she asked, eyebrow raised, holding out the large bottle.

He thought for a moment. Unconsciously, his eyes searched for her, and he saw her animatedly gesturing with her hands, talking to two boys.

"Naw," he said, taking another long draught of his own bottle. It burned as it went down his throat, but that momentary pain distracted him. "Got my own."

His bottle was empty when he realized how close she was.

"Hey," she whispered lowly, her breath tickling his ear, her hair tickling his chin. Her fingers trailed up his chest. "How old are you?"

"Older than you," he smirked down at her, and her brown eyes smoldered, golden hues from the low lights mixing in.

"Hm," she hummed, before pulling down his head to meet hers.

Teddy's body reacted of its own accord, but his mind was in shock- who was this again? How, wait is this really happening?- but his brain fuzzed over, physical instincts taking control, and he shivered at the feel of the tongue in his mouth.

He let the feelings flood into him as he responded to the kiss. This, he was allowed this, his fevered brain told him. She didn't want him, it told him. Eve, Eva, Evaline, she did, stop feeling like this is wrong, this feels right, this feels good, what is wrong with you…

She moaned into him as he gripped her waist tighter, and his eyes snapped open.

Victoire.

His eyes blankly registered the girl against him. What in the hell was he doing here? He wasn't that drunk, he didn't think.

He pushed her away.

"Ugh!"

She stumbled back, hurt flashing on her face before that was locked up again. "What the hell?"

"Sorry," he muttered, walking quickly through the lights of the party to get to the opposite side, the side where a path led down from the cliffs to the beach. He strode across the expanse, grabbing another Firewhiskey on his way.

He was pathetic, disgusting, and drunk now, he decided.

* * *

Teddy leaned against an outcropping of rock, the waves lapping at his bare feet.

An empty bottle lay a bit away, but his head was clear now, or so it told him, electric blue hair tousled from the breeze.

He was Teddy Lupin. Teddy Lupin didn't get depressed because of girls, didn't make out with random ones while drunk, didn't use a girl to forget about another one… He was respectable Teddy Lupin, the one the mother's always loved...

He didn't know how late it was, but the moon was high in the sky, and the noise from the party was quiet.

He closed his eyes, listening to the gentle lapping of the waves, berating himself in his head. At least she wouldn't know it was him, he thought. At least if Emma, Eva, Evaline, ever said something, she wouldn't know. How could she know?

She would know, he thought despairingly, and wearily opened his eyes.

Victoire was a small distance away from him, striding across the beach to meet him, and he cursed under his breath. How was he supposed to face her? He thought about quickly switching his appearance, but she was staring straight at him, she was almost standing next to him, and her eyes were on fire.

She sat down next to him, her movements a bit agitated, but she was staring at him, her eyes were on fire, he was shell-shocked, and she said his name, but he didn't hear it, he just saw her lips moving around the syllables, and she was looking at him again.

"What is it," he heard himself say, but all he saw were her blue eyes glinting with determination, before his mind fell out from under him as she straddled his hips and brought her mouth down to his forcefully.

He couldn't tell if the Firewhiskey he could taste was coming from him or from her, whomever it was from, it was intoxicating, and Teddy decided that he would take this any way he could get it, the feeling was amazing.

This was the bold Victoire he knew about, heard about, but never thought would be bold with him, but here she was, her lips moving his mouth open, and he couldn't take it, holding her against him, he shifted them until his kisses had her back against the sand, their breathing ragged and disjointed.

They stopped for an instant, Teddy pulling back, hands holding him up above her. Her eyes were dark, her breathes turning into pants, hair mussed, looking expectantly up at him.

"Well?" she said, and he knew that if she was standing, she'd have her hand on her hips.

"Well what?" he responded, shaking his head, dipping his head to kiss her collarbone.

"Just try and tell me you'd rather have her," she challenged. His mind was confused? Her? He could only think of Victoire, and so responded by pressing his mouth against hers, down in the sand once more, shivering when he made her moan his name.

A small, small, rational part of his brain was telling him- you are drunk, Teddy Lupin. Do not take advantage of that. Do not be fooled into thinking she wants you- she is also drunk.

But he didn't feel drunk. And this felt right. This is what he wanted, he wanted to feel like Victoire wanted him everyday, she was the one who came to him, shut up brain.

* * *

**AN:** *gasp*! Teddy Lupin, drunk???? What are you doing???

This chapter definitely took a turn in my planning... remember, one more part to this one.... where we find out the aftermath of this little shinding.

it started off sweet, I know, but Victoire, in my head, is different with her friends. She's cool, she's aggressive, she's things she normally isn't when she's around Teddy because of their history and the place she holds him in her mind.

hm....

well.

**REVIEW!!!**

=]


	3. Chapter 3

AN: well. it's finally finished. enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

The first thought that ran through his brain: _Shit, my head_.

And oh, how it pounded.

Although his time spent working at St. Mungo's was a large barrier preventing him from pursuing extracurricular activities, he was well accustomed to the feeling of waking up with a massive hangover.

By the thundering of his head, the queasiness of his insides, and the cotton inside his mouth, he could tell it was going to be of a scale he had not experienced in quite some time.

He was hyper-aware of the bright light shining on his eyelids from the window. Wincing, he rolled over onto his stomach.

How much had he had? he wondered vaguely. Must've been many more than ten, judging from this headache… Hell, he had been smashed.

His head felt fuzzy with the distinct yet hard to explain feeling of memory loss. Some images hazily floated in… Apparating to Victoire's party… Grabbing a Firewhiskey… And then another…. And another… Hiding out in the trees and changing his appearance like a fucking pansy…

He sighed. Water and saltines were a must if he was going to survive the rest of this day.

Cautiously, he cracked his eyes open slowly.

His t-shirt from last night lay crumpled next to the wall.

Suddenly he was hit with a rather significant sinking feeling in his gut, his fuddled brain attempting to gather itself to explain his misgivings. Remember, remember… Quickly, he sat up (bad idea in retrospect) and put his feet on the floor, trying his best to ignore the painful throb behind his eyes and the rolling of his stomach.

Eyes wide in dismay, he located his source of uneasiness immediately next to his bed.

Gingerly, he lifted the flowy, thin-strapped, flowery shirt with two fingers off of the floor.

He remembered this shirt, had seen it pre-black out, admired the way it fell on a certain blonde haired girl that normally occupied most of his thoughts.

His eyes widened, his other hand shooting up to his hair. No, no, no, this is fake, this is not real, you're making this up but images, recollections shot through his mind-

The beach, her hair, _her lips-_ dear god, the feeling, the way his muscles involuntarily rippled when she'd put her hands under his shirt-

Her darkened eyes, the moan he had elicited from her when his hands had molded to the small expanse around the bare skin of her waist, her soft hands impatiently tugging at his shirt—Apparating to his apartment, his shirt quickly being pulled off and thrown, fumbling with her shirt, the rush of feeling from her almost bare chest pushed against his, falling back onto the bed-

Holy shit, had they, had they, no, no no-

Had they, he, but-

Teddy frantically looked down, and gave a swift sigh of relief. His jeans were still on. Somehow, they must have stopped—how, a mystery—but his jeans were still on, they didn't.

His cheeks were hot after remembering, his mouth open in disbelief. He had been so bold, he almost couldn't recognize himself. He had been drunk, he tried to reason with himself, but suddenly this guilt hit him like a tidal wave.

Where was Victoire? What could she possibly think of him now? It was his fault, he should have stopped her, and even though it had felt so right and good and amazing, he could only view it as a guilty pleasure; he had been drunk, so had she, but he'd taken advantage of her, he knew this situation was his fault, shit.

He needed to take a shower.

How was he going to face her? Shit, this was much bigger than just cuddling on the couch.

In all the ways (he would never admit) that he had imagined them hooking up, this was definitely not one of them.

Her shirt still dangling from his hand, Teddy stood up, walking through the open doorway and turned to open the closed bathroom door.

The heaving sound of impending vomit and the resulting splatters stopped him dead.

He heard the flush of the toilet, the rush of water leaving the sink. He stood frozen in front of the door even as the noise of the streaming water stopped.

The door swung open and Victoire emerged, wearing one of his shirts. (He couldn't help noticing, despite the situation, that it looked adorably oversized on her.) Holding her forehead with her hand, she looked a little dazed.

Teddy stood frozen, and when she opened her closed eyes to see him standing in front of her, all of her motion stopped.

Her blue eyes went wide in shock, her mouth fell open, and her face blanched before pink attacked her cheeks.

Teddy… Teddy didn't know what to say. Victoire, his oldest friend, one he had maybe-kind of- definitely fell for, who he'd heatedly fooled around with last night, drunk… His mouth flapped open and shut, but he couldn't get out any words.

"Um… Heeeeey Teddy…" she said, not meeting his eyes, in the most awkward manner he had ever seen produced by the normally bubbly girl.

Had the situation been any different, he would have laughed.

She kept her eyes averted, hands fisted in his shirt, twisting and pulling it away from the front of her body so it never quite lied against her. His eyes followed the light red marks, the light bruising, which trailed down her neck to her collarbone before it disappeared under the stretched neck of his shirt.

An uncontrollable part of him flamed with an almost dangerous heat, blind to everything except the picture of Victoire in _his_ clothing with _his_ bites on her skin, a picture that screamed _mine mine mine._

The larger, more conscience and reasoning part of him was ashamed, embarrassed of his actions. Her embarrassment made him feel so ten times more so. He had never wanted it to be like this.

"I… um…" he began, having no idea what to say, trying to say anything, and failing so so miserably. The almost hopeful blue eyes that had flickered to meet his as his voice broke the silence cast their gaze down. He could practically see her normally expressive orbs shut him out in the process.

He closed his eyes, cursing himself.

"Um, so…" she tried to start, his eyes opening again fast to meet her gaze.

She looked around, at the wall, the floor, the space behind his ear—anywhere, except for at him, her fists still clenching and unclenching in his shirt.

He needed to say something, his mind told him, form words; try to convince her not to hate you, save this from falling apart completely-

"I'm… um, look, I'm-"

"Um, I, um-"

Flushing, they both stopped.

"Um, you," he said, gesturing towards her general direction, he couldn't let his eyes lay on her.

"No, you first," she said, and he couldn't argue with her.

"I, um… so… what happened- I'm, um… I…"

His mind was stuttering and he looked at her, a little helplessly.

Her mouth twitched down.

"It's…" she started, saving him, taking charge like she was so prone to do, "fine. Yeah, it's fine," she said more emphatically, picking up steam, even though the confidence and assurance in her voice echoed falsely off the walls of his apartment.

"We were both drunk, and we made a mistake but it's fine and we should… we should just forget about it. It meant nothing, right? It was harmless." She gestured almost wildly with her hands, eyes flitting around the apartment, gaze landing on anything but him.

"We're both getting older, it was bound to accidently happen sometime and I guess that time was now. So, no need for us to make a big deal about it, I mean we aren't technically related so it wasn't incest or anything and nothing really happened anyways so it's fine. "

His mouth opened and closed futilely, and everything felt so wrong but she was rushing the words out and he couldn't think of a coherent way to cut in even though his entire insides were screaming _MISTAKE? NOTHING HAPPENED?_ but she plowed on right ahead, gaze now fixed firmly at the ceiling.

"Um… well my parents think I'm at Georgina's right now," she said, and the tone her voice took at the end made the statement seem like a question. "So…" she said in a higher pitch, avoiding eye contact, "Yeah. I think I'm… I think I'm going to go now. See you around, Teddy."

Victoire awkwardly shrunk into his shirt at his gaze as his mouth continued to be disgustingly useless. He couldn't think of words again; he needed to say something, make this right—

She took a few steps away, into the kitchen, where yesterday's sun and her happiness and her natural radiance had made her glow like he was watching her through the warmest lens. .

With one more guarded, unfamiliar look, she closed her eyes and Apparated out of his sight.

Groaning, he turned to lean against the wall. Sliding down to sit, he dropped the shirt that he'd unconsciously brought with him- he didn't deserve to touch anything of hers.

He tilted his head back until it hit solid surface.

His gaze moved listlessly around the room, thoughts streaming madly through his head.

He wondered at the sick twist of fate that something that should make him so happy, the fulfillment of his day dreams, would make him feel so bad. He had been black-out drunk. Maybe she had been too.

This wasn't how it worked in his dreams.

But then his eyes landed on the clock hanging on the opposite side of the room.

9:00 AM.

_Fuck_.

He scrambled madly up, already halfway back to his room before he even stood fully straight.

Shit, he was supposed to be at work. Two fucking hours ago. Fuck.

What a day this was turning out to be.

* * *

His attempts at work were dismal at best.

Predictably, upon his late arrival for what would normally be considered a generous starting time (he was more accustomed to 5 AM starts), he got his ass chewed out by the lead Healer he reported to (he was still a lowly intern) and was put on scut. His mate Thomas had taken one look at him before shaking his head and handing him a pile of charts.

"I'm not sure if I should even ask," he'd said as they began rounds. Teddy's splitting headache felt worse completely surrounded by sick patients, worrying relatives, and white walls. His hangover could easily be solved by a quick potion, but his tardiness had prevented him from anything of the sort and he would now have to whip something up quickly during his lunch break. Which was in three hours.

Head pounding, Teddy got lost in the monotony of his work. By the time lunch rolled around, he had gone over his memories of her birthday party over and over again in his head.

Looking at it from the perspective of this morning, it would seem like he was one of the biggest mistakes she had ever made drunk.

Why were things with Victoire always so confusing? As awkward as a situation they had on their hands this morning, the day before her party had led him to believe that maybe things could be completely different.

Looking at it from that prospective, it would seem like maybe he had a chance.

Teddy couldn't help but snort to himself as he began gathering ingredients for his patented hangover cure (all his mates begged him for it, as he wouldn't relay the secret recipe). He found it darkly humorous that just two days ago he had debated whether tucking a sleepy Victoire into his side for a nap would be considered as crossing a line.

His musings continued on during his long shift.

He knew Victoire was no straight edge; he had even been present for the aftermath of one or two of her drunken misadventures. He just desperately wanted this to mean something, to not just be the punch line of a story about another weird night.

Teddy wished he could remember all of the events of the day before, in order to understand how this all happened if not to just have to store in his memory forever.

He remembered arriving, being too much of a loser to actually go up to Victoire, getting drunk, making out with some random girl before acknowledging all he really wanted was Victoire, more drinks, a beach… And then from there it was all very blurry and scattered and he has a few choice memories of blonde hair and sand and skin… But of course no words. No clues to help him figure out how she felt about anything, or how any of it had started.

All he knew is that he wanted her, still, always, all those sappy things. And that it might be possible for him to have her.

The one benefit of having Victoire to torture his thoughts was that the sky had turned from light to dark without him realizing it. Twelve hours later, he was already making his way down the hallway to the staff room, already opening his locker and changing out of his uniform into his clothes.

The thesis of his musings: for once, Teddy Lupin was going to try to do something about this situation. Something direct. Something that wasn't solely thinking about the situation for days and days and simply wondering what would happen if he did do something.

Thinking of the visible evidence on Victoire's neck this morning, it seemed like he already had done something, so why stop now?

Taking perhaps the deepest breath of his life, Teddy closed his eyes, and with equal and extraordinary amounts of determination, destination, and deliberation, folded himself into space.

* * *

Through the loud noise of his heart beating frantically, Teddy simply stood for a minute at the base of the front walkway to Shell Cottage, listening to the waves crashing and crickets chirping, watching lightening bugs fly and leaves sway in the wind. It probably was one of his favorite places.

And if he was continuing this new honesty and facing-the-facts thing, he knew that the many years of memories with Victoire here played a large part in that sentiment.

He took a deep breath, and looked at the front door. Warm light seeped from the windows, sporadically coloring the darkened landscape.

Teddy began approaching the house. His adrenaline was pumping so hard, it was almost embarrassing.

No, it was embarrassing. The prospect of talking to Victoire had never seemed as daunting as it did now. Because everything was going to change, if he could make words leave his mouth. Memories of his stellar performance this morning put him to shame.

All too soon, the wood of the door was plain in front of his face. Gathering himself, he knocked three times on the door.

A huge wave of panic hit him—what if Victoire didn't answer the door, what if _Bill_ answered the door, what was he going to say, what was his plan again, what was he doing, he couldn't do this, this was a stupid idea, she didn't want him last night was a fluke there was no way this was dumb bad idea maybe he should abort mission, abort abort abort—

The door swung open and all of a sudden Victoire was just… there.

She looked like something out of a different world, even in just a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized sweater, too beautiful to exist in a place where it was actually possible to touch her.

"Oh." Her lips were slightly agape in surprise. "Teddy." She looked down, a light pink dusting her cheeks.

Reassembling herself, she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. "What is it?"

He took a deep breath, studying his feet before hopefully beginning something he should have done awhile ago.

"Victoire," he asked quietly, peering up at her, "Can we talk?"

She bit her lip, glancing back into the quiet house before stepping out and gently shutting the door.

"Yeah," she said, "yeah, we can talk."

Victoire cast him a surreptitious glance before passing him.

Teddy, clenching and unclenching his fingers a few times, followed her.

He noticed that her previously marked skin was unblemished in the moonlight as she led him on the path that wound down from the cliff down to the sea. She must have healed them after she left his flat. It wouldn't surprise him that she knew the Charm. Victoire had always been very resourceful.

The path in the darkness may have seemed daunting, but after so many years, Teddy let his muscles do the walking while the rest of him focused on girl in front of him.

They emerged onto the sandy beach faster then he remembered the walk being. He cursed his body as his palms started sweating.

Glancing back at him, Victoire picked her away across the sand until she found a spot by a large piece of driftwood that she deemed worthy. Gracefully, she sat down, blue eyes watching him as he plopped down next to her, close, but not close enough to touch.

Silence stretched as their gazes met.

"So," she prompted, looking at him expectantly, her chin resting on her drawn up knees.

Teddy heaved a sigh. "So."

He really wanted to do this right, because the events that had led to this had all been slightly wrong.

Why couldn't he talk like a normal person, he thought as he struggled to think of the right thing to say.

"I…" Teddy hesitated under the microscope of her eyes, "I wanted to talk about last night."

Victoire blinked once, gaze momentarily cast to the sand next to her.

"Okay," she replied, fidgeting slightly.

"Um, I…" his hand ran through his hair sporadically. "I don't remember everything from last night. A lot of it is very very blurry. And I wish I could say that wasn't the case," he began.

Her blue eyes, the hue darker in the night, looked away as she faced the sea once more. Her hair, silver in the moonlight, rustled with the breeze, and despite how fucked up this situation was, he had never seen anything more beautiful.

More than anything, he wanted her to believe everything he wanted to say. His insides felt heavy and twisted, and he desperately hoped that his awkwardness this morning hadn't screwed them up forever. His best friend since he was two….

He tried again, cursing his inability to put all his thoughts to words. He could tell by the set of her expression that she was trying to contain her impatience.

"Victoire, I—"

She heaved a sigh. "Look, Teddy, you don't have to pretend about anything so that you don't hurt my feelings or something. I saw you kissing Evaline, I knew it was you even with you changed."

His mouth, formerly moving with half-formed, unvoiced sentences, paused.

"How—"

She waved him off. "I know practically everyone at Hogwarts. Some stranger at my party? When I sent the invites? Not likely. But," she sighed exasperatedly, and he lost their eye contact as she stared blankly out to the sea again, "That's not the point. I'm saying that it's okay. You were drunk—"

"So were you—" he again tried to interject, to no avail as she bulled right over him.

"—and I shouldn't have attacked you like that. Or put you in that situation. It wasn't fair. I just…" she trailed off, gaze dropping before meeting his eyes with a startling determination, "The way I've felt about you… has changed in this past year. And I know," she said, her hands unwrapping from around her knees to splay emphatically above the sand, "I know that I've always been like a cousin, or a sister, or whatever, to you. But even though I haven't felt… _this_ way about you until this year, there's always been that extra _something_ to the way I felt about you that said '_not family_.'"

Victoire reclined back on her hands, heaving a sigh. Even in this situation, Teddy couldn't help watching the way her chest rose and fell. He cursed himself for the hundredth time for not being able to remember most of the previous night.

Her words washing over him, a small grin began to creep on his face.

She was looking at anywhere but him, and he almost didn't have the heart to stop her as she began rambling again.

"And I don't really know what you're thinking about any of this, but I just really don't want this to ruin—"

"Victoire, stop," he interrupted, hoping she could hear the warmth and affection that was coursing through his body in his voice.

Her eyes snapped back to his. "What?" she asked, her voice small.

It was his turn, now. It already felt like there was a huge weight off his chest, probably because Victoire had already done all of the hard work. She had always been the braver of the two of them.

"Victoire, I feel the same way. I'm sorry that I've been such an arse… I don't really know what to say about that other girl yesterday or hiding from you at your own party except that I'm a fucking idiot. They way I feel about you sometimes scared me, because I didn't know what to do with it and I was too nervous to do anything about it. And then last night happened, and something that should have been so amazing was marred by me blacking out, and for some reason I couldn't fucking put words together this morning…" he smiled with chagrin, "But at work today, I realized that if there was any time, it was now. I've always felt different about you too, because our relationship has always _been_ different. Moving from friendship to something… more is what I've wanted for some time now."

A small, beautiful smile slowly stretched on her lips. "Yeah?" she said quietly, peering up at him with eyes that matched the sea.

Returning her soft smile, Teddy's fingers brushed her cheek. "Yeah."

He carefully took her chin in his hand, leading her gently to meet his lips softly, once. He pulled back hardly an inch, just enough for him to lean his forehead against hers, breathing the same air as his other hand tucked silver-golden-blonde strands back from her face, behind her ear, resting to cup her face. His other hand followed suit.

She sighed quietly, but they were so close that he thought he could probably pick out her heartbeat against the lapping of the waves.

So, they hadn't started out perfect.

But it was still a start, and he'd sure as hell take it.

**END**

* * *

**AN:** well, after almost 4 years, it's finished, although I didn't edit this one that much. just desperate to get it out and be done. my apologies to anyone who was waiting for this final chapter... I don't really have an excuse aside from I just couldn't make myself write for awhile. And it was hard for me to come back to this and finish it... that's a long time to be away from a piece, which again, is my fault so here you go with an ending! if it wasn't what you expected or what you wanted... well, after all, aside from the world, it is mine so I suppose you can take my surface apology. I appreciate all of you, though.

did you like it, anything about it? review and let me know! anything you want to see from me in the future? also, if you have not, I have a story out now named _salubrious_ that's an eventual harry/ginny set directly after the end of book 7. [shameless self-promotion. I should be ashamed but I'm not.]

Thank you, all, and much love.


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